


Cascade County Community AME Church

by gillasue345



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cancer cw, Christianity, Churches, Demon Blood Addict Sam Winchester, Gen, Having Faith, Healing Powers, Hospitals, Stigmata (Freeform), based on another fic, dean praying to cas, divine!Dean, implied - Freeform, stigmata!dean, timestamp of another fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:16:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6047824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gillasue345/pseuds/gillasue345
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Christ has died. Christ is Risen. Christ will come again.” she said, and everyone brought the wafers to their mouths. Dean copied them. Then they all drank from their cups, only they didn’t hold wine. It was grape juice. All the same, to Dean, it tasted like blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cascade County Community AME Church

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WinJennster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinJennster/gifts), [HerRosesNeverFall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerRosesNeverFall/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Lazarus Needs a Robe of Scarlet Thread](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2093235) by [HerRosesNeverFall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerRosesNeverFall/pseuds/HerRosesNeverFall). 



> This is written for @winjennster, who is having a hard time right now. I’m so sorry for everything that’s going on, and since you wanted more of this ‘verse, Cayla has allowed me to write this fic in the hopes that it brings you a little cheer. Hope things get better for you, love. AKF bc YANA.

Time stamp for [Lazarus Needs a Robe of Scarlet Thread](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2093235) by [@her-roses-never-fall](http://tmblr.co/mi7XU0vj-aO9N9NMzr-KwNg)

Cayla, thank you for allowing me to publish this fic. The church used in this fic is based off of the Union Bethel AME Church in Great Falls, Montana. Out of respect for the congregation, we have changed the name.

****

**January 4, 2009**

**Cascade County Community AME Church**

**Great Falls, Montana**

“Dean, come on. Last time you set foot in a church you stained the pews. Why don’t we sit this one out? Die Hard’s playing at the Carmike. We can sneak some beer in, quote the whole thing word for word,” Sam said as the impala pulled into the driveway of Cascade County Community AME Church.

The church building was nearly a hundred years old and it showed. It was well maintained, but it badly needed a new roof and the steeple was beginning to lean ever so slightly to the left. Still there was something about the brown bricked building that made him feel at home.

“I mean,” Sam continued, “What if you start bleeding here?”

“I _won’t_ ,” Dean said, exasperated.

“That’s what you said _last_ time Dean,” Sam argued, exasperated.

Dean parked the car into the cracked asphalt lot and got out. “Sam, I’m going. If you wanna go to the movies, be my guest. You’re going alone though.” Dean pulled his jacket tighter around his neck and adjusted his hat.

Sam sighed, following him. “Fine, I don’t know why you’re so gung ho about going to church all of a sudden, but whatever. We’ll go.”

“Yeah well weren’t you always the one who had all this ‘faith?’ Sam, its just church.”

“Right, just church,” Sam mumbled under his breath.

They climbed a steep flight of stairs. Dean felt distinctly underdressed as they passed a large group of women, all wearing their Sunday best. One of them, a young woman with sea green eyes and dark skin caught his eye and she smiled widely, her wild curls covered with a blue silk hat that matched her sky blue dress.

“Welcome to CCCC,” she said, holding out her hand. Dean shook her hand. “I’m Lillian.”

“Dean,” he said shaking her hand. Lillian glanced at Sam, who was hunched down behind his brother. “This is my brother, Sam. We were passing through town and thought we’d take in a service if that’s okay.”

Lillian smiled. “Of course, you picked the right day to visit. We’ve got a very special service planned.”

Dean couldn’t help it, he smiled. “We look forward to it ma’am,” he said. “Sit anywhere?”

“Anywhere you can find a seat, its a full house today.”

Sam waved. “Nice to meet you,” he said to Lillian as they passed the front door, heading to a couple free seats near the back of the church.

It was freezing inside the small church, and congregation members were clustered together in the rough hewn pews. A choir in white robes was seated up front, behind the alter, and quiet organ music was playing in the background.

The room had filled to capacity by the time the Rev. Peters stood up at the altar.

“Welcome friends and guests,” she said. Her white robe was bright against the dark altar wood. She was a tall woman, with a deep timbre to her voice that made Dean feel calm. For the first time in a week, the bruises on his wrists didn’t ache. “Welcome to our service here today and welcome to a new year. Now, we’ve got a very special service prepared for today, but first let’s bow our heads and pray.”

Dean glanced around as everyone near him held hands and looked down at their laps.

They all prayed silently for a full minute, even Sam closed his eyes. Eventually, Dean let his eyes slip shut too.

“Amen,” Rev. Peters said, her voice booming in the quite room.

Everyone released hands and they all replied “Amen,” in unison.

This wasn’t so bad, Dean thought. “I apologize for the lack of heating,” the reverend said. “My husband assured me that it will be fixed by services next week, which of course, was what he said last week.” The congregation laughed and Dean glanced around. A man in a purple shirt was smiling sheepishly at the crowd.

He stood up, “What can I say? It was working fine this morning, but it died again. Lord willing, I”ll get it done,” Reverend Peters laughed.

“Lord, honey, you know we all appreciate all you do keeping our little church running smoothly. Let us all be thankful for the packed house we have this morning. It’ll help keep us warm, and please, feel free to use the blankets under the pews. Mrs. Johnson that means you!” the reverend said. “We can’t have our most loyal parishioner catching cold this bright January morning. Now, let’s get to this morning study verse. Please open your books to Hebrews 11:1, I want to talk about faith.”

The room held nearly 75 people, but as Dean watched them interact with their fellow churchgoers and he felt included. He felt welcomed.

He sat in the back seat, listening to Rev. Peters’ sermon about faith, about needing faith when all there is is darkness, he felt a sort of peace wash over him. He knew he wouldn’t get the wounds here.

Before he knew it, the congregation had stood to its feet, even poor Mrs. Johnson, who had to be ninety years old. The organ music began and Rev Peterson approached the altar once more.

“I would like to introduce a very special member of our congregation this morning,” she said. “Please join me in welcoming Aleah Anderson for her debut in the CCCC Choir.”

The room erupted in applause and Dean craned his neck around a large woman’s ridiculously large hat to see a little girl being helped up the steps of the Altar by Lillian to a microphone. Her robe hung off her skinny frame, but her sea green eyes were just like Lillian’s. Her head was wrapped in a brightly colored scarf.

Dean could feel her sickness even from the back of the room. Something was seriously wrong with that little girl. Her eyes caught his for just a moment and they widened before she looked away at Lillian, who was holding out the microphone.

“Aleah and her mother Lillian, are going to be singing ‘His Eye is on the Sparrow’ for today’s musical selection. And I would like to pass around the donation plate early this morning. We’re going to be collecting for Miss Aleah’s medical bills today. Her health insurance has just about neared its limit, and she has been placed on the Bone Marrow Transplant List. Please, give all you can to help this family on this beautiful morning.”

The music swelled a little louder then, as Reverend Peters pulled out a bill and placed it into an offering plate before passing it along to the Deacons sitting behind her.

Dean watched, fascinated, as the plate filled up more and more. Great Falls wasn’t a wealthy area, and this church was small, but not a single person handed off the plate without putting something in the bottom of the dish.

Then the little girl began to sing, with her mother singing backup. _“Why should I feel discouraged? Why should the shadows come?”_

Her voice was strong and clear full of innocent joy at the words she sang out towards the heavens. Dean felt his eyes well up with tears. She was the embodiment of faith. She was pure and good. She sang beautifully. And she was dying.

Suddenly, Dean was angry. Why would god make such a beautiful little girl, give her such a gift only to pull her from this world before her time? It wasn’t fair.

_“When Jesus is my portion, my constant friend is He. His eye is on the sparrow. And I know He watches me. ”_

The choir joined in behind them, the music swelling as the congregation clapped. Dean felt tears welling up in his eyes. How long had it been since he’d felt this way? Had he ever felt this way?

The plate finally made it around to them and Dean reached into his pockets, pulling out every bit of cash he’d earned the night before hustling pool and putting them into the the plate. But it wasn’t enough. It could never be enough. Dean knew he needed to do more.”He handed the plate to Sam, who also placed a large wad of money into it.

The song ended and the group all stood around him.

“What’s going on?” Dean asked, coughing lightly to dispel the tightness in his throat.

“Communion,” Sam whispered back. Dean nodded. He put the bible away and began to stand. “Dean, what are you doing?” Sam pulled him back down.

“Sam, its… I need to do this.”

“You’re not baptized,” Sam hissed.

“Yes I am,” Dean whispered back.

“What?” Sam asked. Their pew all stood up, ready to walk down to the reverend to receive their communion.

Dean shrugged. “Pastor Jim baptized us both that summer Dad was laid up with a broken leg. You wouldn’t remember it, you were just a toddler,” Dean’s voice was thick. He missed Pastor Jim, and wished more than ever he still had that old man around. Maybe he could explain what was going on with him in a way that Dean could understand and come to accept. He’d always been close with him.

“You comin’?” he asked and Sam flinched before shaking his head.

“You go ahead,” Sam finally replied and Dean shrugged, following the line of parishioners to the front of the church.

The Deacons were holding a plate of wafers and a tray of thimble sized cups. One of the them, a white haired man wearing a bright yellow tie, handed Dean a wafer. He copied the others, holding the wafer in the flat of his palm. Another Deacon handed him the cup.

Then they all returned to their seats.

Dean held the wafer in his hand.

When all members had received their communion, Reverend Peters gestured for them all to stand.

“Christ has died. Christ is Risen. Christ will come again.” she said, and everyone brought the wafers to their mouths. Dean copied them. Then they all drank from their cups, only they didn’t hold wine. It was grape juice. All the same, to Dean, it tasted like blood. He choked it down and took a deep breath as warmth spread through his body, lessening the ache in his joints. The bruises in his wrists faded for just a moment. The sharp pain that was a near constant across the scourge marks on his back was gone.

He sighed in relief.

The church service broke up pretty quickly after that. Rev Peters led the group in a final prayer and then the service was over with another hymn.

“Come on,” Sam said, distinctly uncomfortable. “Let’s go.”

“Rev. Peters said they were having brunch though,” Dean said. He was famished.

“We can get something on the way back to the motel. I want to go.”

Just then Lillian approached, pushing Aleah in a wheelchair. “Let’s get you back to Benefits. Nurse Allie said you owed her a game of Go Fish,” Lillian said.

“She said she’d help me find a song for next month,” Aleah said. For a moment Lillian’s face was stricken and as they passed by, and it was almost as if Dean could read her thoughts in her expression.

She was worried that Aleah wouldn’t make it to next month.

Dean steeled his resolve, following Sam out the door and heading towards the impala.

Aleah Anderson would make it to her next concert if he had anything to do with it.

__________________________________________________________________

That afternoon, Sam and Dean were sprawled out on their beds. Sam had an ancient necronomicon spread out against the hideous floral pattern of the bedspread, while Dean attempted to nap.

But every time he just about dozed off, that little girl’s song started to play in his mind.

He sighed and stood up.

“I’m going for a beer run, you want anything?”

Sam looked up from his book. “Wanna bring a pizza home?”

The thought of pizza actually turned his stomach, but he nodded. “Veggie on your half?” he asked.

Sam shook his head. “Meet lovers tonight,” and Dean nodded.

He looked up the local pizza place and saved the number into his phone. He’d call about that later.

The car was freezing when he got into it. A massive storm front was on the horizon, and he could smell the snow in the air. If they didn’t head south soon, the’d be stuck north all winter. Baby didn’t drive well in snow, bless her.

Dean headed towards Benefits Hospital. He pulled up into the visitor section and headed inside.

“Excuse me,” he said. The smell of the hospital threatened to gag him. The receptionist looked up from her romance novel.

“I am looking for the pediatric cancer ward,” Dean said, flashing her his most winning smile.

She glanced him up and down and frowned slightly.

“What business do you have up there?”

“Visiting a family friend,” Dean said shortly.

The receptionist bit her lip. “Third floor, West Wing,” she finally said.

“Thanks,” Dean said.

He made his way to the cancer ward.

But as soon as he stepped onto the third floor he heard it. Aleah was singing again. He followed the sound of “This little light of mine” all the way down the third floor corridor, to a brightly decorated door at the end of the hall.

Aleah was sitting alone in her hospital bed. The walls were literally covered with paper flowers from magazines. She was methodically brushing a wing on a mannequin bust.

Dean knocked on the door. “Hey kiddo,” Dean said when she looked up.

Her eye lit up. “You’ve got a halo!” she said and Dean smiled before shutting the door.

“People tell me that,” he said. “Mind if I sit down?” he asked. She nodded.

“Do you get tired too?” she asked.

Dean nodded. “I do,” he said.

“Are you sick like me?” she asked, eyeing his beanie.

“No,” he replied. “I’m not.”

“Are you an angel?” she asked, and his heart swelled in his chest. This little girl deserved a life. She deserved to be saved.

“No, honey. My name is Dean. I’m here to help you feel better.”

“Are you Jesus?” she asked and he started. Usually little kids are far more perceptive than adults give them credit for.

“Well sorta. Yeah,” he said, chuckling.

Aleah’s eyes filled up with tears. “Are you gonna take me to heaven?” she asked. She put her brush down. “Can I say bye to Mommy first?” she asked. Her lip trembled.

Dean reached out, grabbing her tiny hand. “Do you want me to take you to heaven?” he asked. He knew he couldn’t do this, of course, but the question had caught him off guard.

She shook her head. “No, I can’t leave mommy alone,” she said. “I”m scared,” she whispered conspiratorially.

“Me too,” Dean whispered back. He laced her fingers in his. “And its okay to be scared,” he met her gaze. “You are a very brave little girl, you know that?” he asked.

She nodded. “People keep telling me that, but I don’t feel brave.” Tears filled her eyes. “I just want it to stop hurting,” she finally said.

“I—” Dean started, swallowing a lump in his throat. “I could make the pain go away. I could make you better. If you want me to,” he said.

“You will?” Aleah asked. Dean nodded, smiling weakly. “Okay,” she said.

Dean raised his hand, pressing it to her warm forehead. The grace coursing through his body like liquid metal flowed from his fingertips into her body.

Suddenly her soul was cool green, healthy. Her body was no longer weighted down.

Tears filled her eyes.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore, Mr. Dean.”

“That’s good, baby,” he whispered.

“Will you sing with me?” she asked.

“I don’t have much of a voice,” he finally said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Then will you pray with me?” Dean clasped her hand.

“Sure,” she ducked her head and Dean followed her lead.

Silently he prayed for the first time in years. But it wasn’t to God. It was to Castiel.

 _I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing,_ he prayed, _but this…feels right for the first time since you raised me. Please help me Cas._

Aleah released his hand. “Amen,” she said.

“Aleah,” Dean said. She looked up.

“Yeah?”

“You can’t tell anyone I was here okay?”

She furrowed her brow. “Why?”

“Because… they wouldn’t understand. Just… live your life, okay sweetheart? Go to your church and sing in the choir. Go to school. You’re gonna be famous one day. I can feel it. Just _live_. That’s all I ask. Do you promise?”

She nodded slowly. “I promise,” she said. “I won’t tell anyone about my guardian angel.”

“Oh honey, I told you. I’m no angel,” he said.

“You’re my angel. People can be angels too you know. Like my mommy.”

Dean pressed a gentle kiss to Aleah’s temple.

“Fine, then I’m your guardian angel.”

“Good.”

Dean didn’t return to the motel room until an hour later, his arms laden down with beer and pizza. “Sorry man,” he lied. “The place was packed. I was thinkin’ we should probably get out of here soon. The ghost’s taken care of and snow’s coming. Let’s go south,” he said.

Sam shrugged, pulling a slice of pizza out of the box. “Sounds good to me,” he replied.


End file.
